


Snow Fall

by UntramenTaro



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Family, Family Drama, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 20:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4114102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntramenTaro/pseuds/UntramenTaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short anecdotes of Kiyoteru taking in an orphaned Yuki and trying his hardest to raise her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Entry 1

I’m not sure why I’m here.

There’s a funeral and I’m attending in my father’s place.

All I know is that this is my grandmother’s side of the family. The Kaai family.

To be completely honest I’m not sure what exact relation the deceased has to me, especially since I’m not related by blood.

I’m Kiyoteru Hiyama, the adopted son of Kiyoshi Hiyama. Dropped flat down into an unfamiliar space with unfamiliar faces, I can’t help but feel ostracized. I don’t belong here at all. 

But I’m not the only one who feels this way. As soon as I laid eyes on her delicate frame, I felt cold. On this blazing hot summer day where these restrictive, heavy, and dark mourning clothes seem to amplify the heat, I felt this vaguely nostalgic sense of cold, like the exact moment I experienced my first snow fall.

Yuki Kaai. The daughter of the deceased. As far as I could pick up from the gossip, it seemed that her mother was not well accepted in the family. At a young age she ran off with some foreigner and years later came crawling back with a young child in tow.

I felt no pity for her.

What really struck me was the way that Yuki looked upon her mother’s cold dead body. There was no love there. There was no hatred there. Just pure acceptance and acknowledgement of her mother’s existence. 

It was apparent by this point that no one in the Kaai family was willing to take her in. 

I shuddered when she glanced at me with those eyes. Not quite dead but not alive either. 

Would you call it empathy? She was probably just like me. I hardly remembered my own biological parents, and it’s only because my foster father raised me that I was promoted from an empty shell to an actual functioning human being.

Mustering all the courage in my thin 22 year old frame, I offered to take her in. After all, I wasn’t accepted into this family either. Outcasts have to stick together right?

And so begins the new life we would forge together.


	2. Entry 2

It had been no more than just 3 days since meeting her that my life has been turned upside down.

I live in a respectable sized house and lead a simple life as a bachelor. But with the addition of another mouth to feed, clothe, and shelter did problems begin to pile up.

Yuki did not own much. All she had were 2-3 sets of clothes (including the clothes on her back) and a small doll of a red eyed snowhare.

I had to buy another bed, more sets of furniture, clothes, toys, and various other things I supposed a young child might like to have. All these items up front cost me much more than I had intended when I offered to take her in. I am by no means a rich man and the costs and expenses swirled around in my head leaving me dizzy and dazed and almost penniless.

My dream of owning a car is blown to bits now, I suppose…

————————————

As summer was nearing its end, the school year was about to resume and I would return to work. Yuki would need to attend school as well, and enrolling her in the school I taught at would probably ease my conscience. I could keep a close eye on her.

The main reason why I felt so concerned for her was because it appeared she had problems speaking. The first week that I had made her acquaintance she refused to speak. I was afraid that maybe she never really learned how to talk, as she just glanced and motioned toward things that she wanted.

She finally did talk to me one day. However, it was mostly to address the fact that my cooking that day was… subpar.

“Disgusting.”

It pierced me. Her wispy voice clear as a bell on a winter night. 

It took a lot of candy and coaxing in order for me to get her to speak again. As a parent, you can discern a child’s likes and dislikes as you raise them, but for me it was mostly trial and error in finding what she liked and disliked since she refused to talk to me.

Maybe she hated me. That was what I assumed and I tried my best to gain her favor. As the mysterious man that took her away from her family and tried to raise her, I suppose she would be reluctant to even gaze upon me.

It wasn’t until one night that she clamored into my bed weeping. Probably a nightmare. I didn’t really question it at all and wrapped the blanket around her and sung until she fell asleep.

The next morning she told me that she liked me and that she was happy that I was there for her.

She told me she didn’t talk much because she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what words to use to communicate the overflowing gratitude within her heart.

This of course shocked me to no end because I was under the impression that she hated my existence but in reality her feelings were the opposite.

Even so, it appeared that her vocabulary and ability to interact with people was severely limited. As I signed all the documentation as her legal guardian to enroll her in school, I prayed under my breath that I would be her homeroom teacher. That way, I could make sure that no one mocked her for her (admittedly endearing) shortcomings.


	3. Entry 3

I honestly shouldn’t have worried.

Yuki’s adjusted pretty well at her new school and got along fine with her peers. It’s a blessing seeing her smile and happy around kids her age.

I had no idea how she lived her life before, but I would like to say the new spark in her eyes is an improvement to the dull gaze she had when we first met.

Parent-teacher conferences are coming up and I have no idea what to say. As her homeroom teacher and guardian, what could I possibly tell myself that I didn’t already know? It was actually quite laughable.

But the fact of the matter is I’m probably with her for all her waking moments because of this. We wake up in the morning, brush our teeth, eat breakfast and walk together to class where I teach her and her classmates. After school is done we walk home together and make dinner, and then it’s off to bed with a lullaby. 

I wonder if she’ll hate me because I’m always with her. I hardly wish to be one of those “helicopter parents” but maybe someday she’d like some alone time without my watchful gaze…

————————————-

Yuki is sick. 

I woke up this morning without that hearty “Good Morning!” I had become accustomed to. I strode over to her bed and found her with a blazing fever.

I didn’t know what to do. I immediately hit the panic button and I lost my composure. 

As a teacher, I’m used to seeing kids get sick, but I always just direct them to the nurses office or send them home. But now that I am the home, I honestly didn’t know what to do.

I thought back to when I was ill. My father would stay by my side and give me medicine, watching over me and making sure I was properly nourished.

But! How could I possibly do so? I can’t just call the school on such short notice and have them find a suitable substitute in time. 

Yuki…

I had never felt so powerless in my entire life.

I gave her some medicine and some rice porridge, but her fever sustained in intensity. By this point it was impossible for me to reach work in time and I reluctantly called in saying I could not come to work that day.

I was heavily chastised over the phone, but I didn’t care. Because to me Yuki was more important than anything. It was selfish to put this single child over the education of many, but it was wrong to just ignore her as well.

When I finally returned to her side, she reached out to my face and told me that I shouldn’t be crying.

I’m crying? Ha. That’s news to me. My whole body aches and I’m trembling because I’m scared.

Her fever was way above the safe range. If she hadn’t told me to quit it I would be sobbing right now because she looked so serene and terribly fragile. Just like the way a single touch could send a whole ice sculpture tumbling down.

It had been almost 4 hours since I discovered her fever, and I admitted defeat. I couldn’t possibly have cared for her. Not like this. Just like the way I handled sick children at my job, I handed the responsibility to someone else.

I called the hospital.


	4. Entry 4

They told me that it wasn’t fatal, but it was still serious if not treated.

I feel as if I’m to blame that she had become so ill like that. Even though the hospital staff reassured me over and over that it was not my fault and that she would make a full recovery, I still blamed myself. Reassuring words have never stopped anyone from worrying.

I looked like such a nervous wreck that the nurses even jokingly asked me if I should be treated as well.

I just glared at them.

I didn’t much understand at all what was happening, but it appeared that Yuki would have to undergo surgery. They said it was tonsillitis, and I only marginally understood what it meant. Something to do with the throat right?

She is in such a delicate situation because they didn’t catch the symptoms early enough. Why didn’t Yuki tell me that her throat was hurting? Did she not want me to worry?

She’s such a little fool.

She’s a fool like me.

——————————————

I used up all my off days in order to look after her.

She apologized to me over and over. Told me that she was sorry to make me worry.

I told her to shut up. I was completely on edge and snapped at her, which only fueled my self hatred. She didn’t deserve that at all.

I’m not afraid to say I feel like shit. I’m just immature and irrational, and I was in over my head when I thought I could handle raising a child.

It was completely my fault. It was completely my fault that she was bleary eyed and confined to bed. It was completely my fault that she looked so pale and fragile. Completely my fault that her small hands were so cold.

I’m selfish. I didn’t want to lose her. I just wanted to take all the blame upon myself, as if that would make everything alright.

I must confess that my thoughts are a blur. It might not make much sense to you at all. I knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault for anything. But even if my brain thought that way, my emotions were to the contrary.

While she was asleep I apologized to her for being so useless and snapping at her. I told her I loved her.

And I heard her faintly whisper back “I love you too.”


	5. Entry 5

Yuki fully recovered.

Both of us finally returned to school with quite a bit of fanfare.

Her classmates swarmed her and asked her questions. Even though she had gone through such a terrifying ordeal, she was all smiles.

I myself tried my hardest to cope. I felt like I had no right to be with her, especially with the way I had acted.

I’m not a saint. I didn’t take her in because I saw she had no where to go. I didn’t take her in because I pitied her. I’m not even sure of the exact reason I took her in. 

All I saw was that she was just like me.

She meant a lot to me. I didn’t see her as a daughter or anything of the sort, but the love I had for her was most certainly familial.

I just wanted the days when she smiles to never end.

——————————————-

It had come to my attention that her birthday was coming up soon. I was mildly surprised we shared the same birthday.

I discussed with her what she wanted for her birthday, and it was soon decided a day out would suffice.

We took the train to the shopping district and we window shopped at whatever store tickled her fancy.

I bought her a new winter coat (because it was starting to get chilly) and a small hat for her snowhare doll. 

I also offered to buy her a small birthday cake, but she shook her head. What she wanted was a parfait.

We sat across from each other at the booth at a small cafe, a colorful parfait between us. She giggled and pulled out the sparklers they had put at the sides of the birthday parfait and waved them in my face.

“I’m a fairy! Kiyoteru, what is your wish?”

I told her I didn’t know what I wanted, and she frowned.

“You have to want something. Everyone wants something.”

I turned the words over in my mind, but I couldn’t really come up with a proper answer before the sparkler fizzled out.

“Awww. It looks like I have to grant your wish at another time, Kiyoteru.”

As we shared the parfait we fought each other for the last strawberry by sword fighting with our spoons (she won by the way). My heart felt light, almost as if a tremendous weight has been lifted from my chest.

Sharing a parfait with the girl that meant the world to me… it was a dream come true, but not in the way I expected!

She most certainly meant the world to me, and I hoped she felt the same.

After riding the last train home, she ran to her room and pulled out a small bag of cookies she had made at a friend’s house. 

“Happy birthday.”

I graciously accepted the cookies, and I was about to tuck her into bed. However…

“Kiyoteru, I have another gift for you. Close your eyes.”

I shut my eyes and waited. It wasn’t until I felt a faint brush against my cheek that I opened my eyes to see Yuki covering her face in embarrassment.


	6. Entry 6

Christmas passed by rather uneventfully.

We sang a bit and exchanged small gifts. She had saved up her allowance to buy me a wristwatch (which I now wear) and I gave her a stationary set that she had not so subtly insisted I buy.

The Christmas cake this year tasted a little sweeter than usual, but I suppose that’s because I had a sweet little girl by my side. 

—————————————————

New Years was just around the corner and it dawned on me that I never actually informed my father that I had taken Yuki in.

I had normally visited my father every month or so, but I’ve completely neglected him for half a year.

I wonder if he would be cross with me for both ignoring him and the fact that I had taken Yuki in without consulting him, but I suppose I’ll find out when I go visit him.

—————————————————-

Sometimes I wonder if it’s any use worrying about things anymore.

Surprisingly enough what awaited me at my old home was not a firm reprimand, but a very delighted Kiyoshi Hiyama. After a rushed introduction between my ward and my father, they got along very well.

Almost too well. Needless to say I was jealous and felt like a third wheel as they chattered noisily about various things.

I busied myself in the kitchen to fix myself a snack. There was something about being in this old house that made me feel like a kid again, like I didn’t need to worry about taxes and the real world anymore.

Ha. It really had been half a decade since I had lived in this house under my father’s care. Even now in my father’s eyes I’m still a child.

A child. Really I had hardly gone past that phase and now I have a child of my own to take care of. A child raising a child. Really now?

Of course I was Kiyoshi Hiyama’s adopted son, so I had adopted his last name as well. Maybe… what if I adopted Yuki rather than just being her legal guardian?

Yuki Hiyama. Didn’t quite roll off the tongue like Yuki Kaai, but I wasn’t completely adverse to it. But if I adopted her then she would have to start calling me dad…

No, I don’t think my heart would be ready for that kind of thing. I’m still too young for that title.

I went out to the living room to see my father and Yuki on the floor looking through some old photo albums (please don’t show her that one!).

Soon after Yuki took a nap and my father and I had quite the discussion.

It appeared that the topic of their discussion earlier was me, and that he had given her a lot of information about me that I would rather no one else know.

We talked about her and her circumstances. Should I adopt her? Should I not? Was I too young to take care of her properly?

After our visit was over, Yuki treated me kinder than usual (what exactly did they talk about?) and asked if we could visit “grandpa” again.

Well, I don’t suppose it would hurt to visit now and again right?


	7. Entry 7

"Yuki, what do you think of becoming my daughter?"

I rehearsed those words over and over in my head, but it never felt quite right. I had the paper work for her to legally be added to the family register, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go through with it. Was it wrong of me to want to maintain this comfortable relationship as we do now?

I don't want things to change.

\-------------------------------------

"Kiyoteru?"

"Yes Yuki?"

"Would it be weird if I called you... dad?"

I didn't expect those words. My chest tightened a little, and I wasn't sure if I liked being referred to as such. I was barely in my mid twenties, I shouldn't be called dad just yet. I haven't even had a girlfriend in my lifetime let alone a wife, so being called dad was something I didn't expect for a good while.

I thought about that sort of thing. But I didn't anticipate her being the one bringing up this topic. I wanted to give her a proper answer, and if it made her more comfortable to have her call me her father, I'd probably slowly get used to it.

"You can call me dad if you'd like, Yuki."

"Ok, dad... hmmmm it sounds weird... I don't like it."

I wasn't sure if I felt relieved or disappointed that she also felt it was uncomfortable, but after a few rounds of trying to call me dad, she soon gave up on it.

It looks like I won't be her father any time soon.

\----------------------------------------

"Hey dad?"

"Dad?"

"Ah sorry. I mean Kiyoteru."

"No, no. You can call me dad. It doesn't matter I suppose."

She slowly began to switch between calling me Kiyoteru and dad, and every time she did my heart would seize up a little. I told myself I'd slowly get used to it, but it doesn't seem like I will. 

"You know... grandpa said that you're my dad just like how you're his son, so... that's why I have to call you dad."

"What kind of weird ideas did 'grandpa' plant in your head, Yuki?"

"It's not weird! We're a family and you're like my dad! You took me in when no one else did! Just like how grandpa took you in! And you called grandpa 'dad' so it's ok for me to call you dad, right?"

I couldn't really argue with her reasoning. She was right. My father took me in and I had, no questions asked, accepted him as my father. But now that I was in that position, I wondered if my father also winced as I called him "dad" when I was young.

I was her father now. There wasn't any sense in denying it.


End file.
